The Edge
by thewickednix
Summary: Draco Malfoy bumps in to an old acquaintance at a very unexpected location. Unfortunately, that person seems to have no idea whatsoever who Draco is.


**Title:** The Edge  
**Author:** thewickednix  
**Pairing:** Draco Malfoy / Harry Potter  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Categories:** One-Shot, Slash  
**Warnings: **Adult Language, Sexual situations, Quirky humour and general weirdness  
**Words: **3 500

**Summary:** Draco Malfoy bumps in to an old acquaintance at a very unexpected location. Unfortunately, that person seems to have no idea whatsoever who Draco is.

_DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

**Author's notes: **This one I wrote for my dear friend Queenie, who recently turned 18, and who told me that she loves my one-shots. The perhaps most perverted thing to give someone for their birthday is a smut-fic, but oh well. So congratulations darling, now the bar-humping starts. Love you!

Suiting our friendship, this story is weird, it's wicked, and hopefully at least a tiny bit funny. The piece is quite appropriately named after a nice little gay bar in London.

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**  
The Edge**

Draco Malfoy leaned over the counter, waiting for the bartender to hand him his drink. The dark-haired bartender flashed him a bright smile and held on to the glass a little longer than necessary, his fingers just barely brushing against Draco's. Draco returned the smile as good club-etiquette demanded, but turned away quickly before the other man would get any ideas. The man was quite easy on the eyes, but Draco's rule was to stay away from authority figures, including bartenders and porters. If they liked you, all was well, but if you did something bad, say dumped them in a particularly unpleasant way, you could trust them to destroy your next night out. Draco had learned that the hard way.

There he now stood, leaning against the bar, drink in hand, checking out the night's menu. The place was cramped, unusually so for being 8 am on a Thursday night. Draco could barely enjoy his Cosmo without someone knocking it out of his hand. The fifth time someone bumped into him that Draco lost his nerve.

"Do you _mind?_" he snarled, turning on his heels to face the clumsy idiot beside him.

"Sorry," the man grunted, casting Draco an approving glance, but Draco was no longer looking at him. He was staring past the mans shoulder to the other side of the counter, where a skinny, dark-haired man in glasses was trying to catch the bartender's attention.

Draco squinted, desperately trying to see the mans features clearly, but the room was much too foggy and the man was turned partially away from him. But then, as if he had been called, the dark-haired man turned directly towards Draco. And Draco thought that his heart might have stopped beating.

Harry Potter was staring at him, running his eyes up and down Draco's body with an uncertain flush on his face. But the brunette soon looked away, giving Draco no indication that he knew him.

Affronted by the nonchalance that was very unbecoming the Boy Hero, Draco was determined to confront the man. He elbowed his way towards Potter, barely able to make his way through the crowded room.

Potter was just receiving his drink when Draco leaned in next to him by the counter.

"Well, well. If it isn't St. Potter," Draco grinned, the usage of his old nickname for the man bringing up fond memories. But to Draco's great irritation, Potter did not seem to appreciate his joke, but merely turned to stare at him in a very peculiar fashion.

"How do you know my name?" the man asked, cocking an eyebrow at Draco, who in that moment could have been knocked over by a feather. Merlin, Potter was even more obnoxious now than he had been during their school years. At least back then he had had the courtesy to acknowledged Draco's existence.

"Don't be a git, Potter," he responded, sneering vexedly at the brunette. "Some civility wouldn't be completely out of order when meeting an old acquaintance."

Potter furrowed his brow, looking like he was furiously searching through his memory. "Do I know you?" he then asked, still looking very sceptical. It was all Draco could do not to punch the man for his impudence. The only thing that prevented him was the sudden realisation that while he might not be able to make Potter stop this ridiculous game, he could most certainly beat him at it.

"Well, then," he said, shrugging nonchalantly. "I guess if you won't even talk to me, I'll just go and spread the glorious news that I ran into Harry fucking Potter in a gay club. I bet the _Daily Prophet _will be particularly pleased to find out that you finally decided to step out of the closet…" Draco grinned at the horrified-looking Potter, and moved graciously around him as if to leave.

"Wait!"

Draco would perhaps have chosen to ignore Potter's plea, where it not for the hand that came to wrap around his wrist, pulling him back towards the counter.

"What?" Draco asked with the blasé arching of an eyebrow, whilst on the inside he was smiling gleefully.

"You _do_ know me," Potter stated, observing Draco's face with considerable interest. "And you're a wizard."

"Bravo, Potter," Draco sighed, his self-satisfaction gone with the continuing of Potter's insistent stupidity. "You have just crossed the line to complete moron."

Potter didn't look even mildly amused. "I'm not a moron, you prick. I have amnesia."

In spite of himself, Draco broke out in laughter.

"You're kidding me." The words had already crossed his lips when Draco realised that the man was decidedly _not_ kidding.

"No," Potter answered, sneering slightly at Draco. "Apparently I was working with the ministry and got into some sort of trouble during a raid. Too many different charms hit me at once, and poof…" Potter trailed off, making a demonstrative movement with his hands.

"And poof… you were gay?" Draco suggested helpfully. Potter answered by giving him the finger.

"Oh," was all Draco managed to say as he stared at the brunette, suddenly very uncertain of how to act around him. "So… you can't remember anything?"

"Not a thing," Potter stated lightly, shrugging. "I only know what Ron and Hermione and the others have told me."

_Oh, _Draco thought, slightly disappointed, _those two are still in the picture. _

"How do you know me?" Potter asked.

"From school," Draco answered, reluctant to give too much away.

"Ah," Potter exclaimed, his face lighting up. "So we were friends?"

Draco suppressed the urge to snort. "Not exactly, no."

Potter observed him with a curious expression, but didn't press the issue.

"So why are you here then?" Draco asked, gesturing offhandedly at the room. "In a Muggle club? I would think you would be doing all the magical stuff you got your hands on. You know, re-experiencing everything?"

"Naah," Potter muttered, shrugging again. "I don't really like the wizarding world anymore. I wonder if I ever did." The brunette looked thoughtful. "Everyone just keeps staring at me constantly, like I'm some kind of circus freak. It's highly annoying."

Draco nodded, taking a sip of his drink. "Well, that's one way of putting it."

Potter just sneered at Draco in response, as if suggesting that he was somehow insensitive.

"Why are you in the Muggle world yourself,…"

"Drake," Draco filled in quickly. There was a very slim chance that Potter would not have heard about the heir of the notorious Malfoy family, and the game was much more interesting this way. "I left after the war. I thought that since I had to rebuild my life anyway, I might as well do it somewhere where no one recognises me. Besides," Draco said, saluting Potter with his Cosmo. "Muggles make killer drinks."

Potter's face cracked into a broad smile and he let out a light chuckle, the first one Draco had ever heard that was directed at him. It felt very strange after seven years of only seeing that face turn to him with a sneer.

"Yeah, better than Firewhisky, at least," Potter grinned, taking a sip of the strange orange drink in his hand. Draco was starting to think that he might like the new Potter better than the old one.

"So, where are you staying?" Draco asked, surprising even himself by the nearly civil interest he was showing.

"Here and there," Potter answered, shrugging. "It turned out that I had a lot of money stashed away for no particular reason, so I cashed it in an decided to travel a bit. Oh course, Hermione wasn't so pleased with that. She said I should 'save it for a rainy day'," Potter scoffed, mimicking Granger's high-pitched voice.

Draco let out a chuckle. "Naturally," he responded. He would perhaps have said something more, but just then a very daring idea started to form in his mind, and it had nowhere to go except out of his mouth.

"Why don't you come stay at my place for the night?" he blurted out, feeling the faint flush of timid regret bloom on his neck the moment the words passed his lips.

Potter stared at him in surprise, though he did not look directly opposed to the idea. "Your place?" he repeated, apparently unsure if Draco was in jest or in earnest.

"Yeah," Draco breathed, chuckling lightly to release some of his newborn nervousness. "My place is just around the corner, a hundred yards away or so."

Potter observed him for another moment, then shrugged. "Well, why not? It saves me the money I'd have used up at some hotel." He grinned.

Draco returned his snide smile, downing the rest of his drink in one go. "Shall we?"

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"Fuck, it's cold out here!" Potter muttered, pulling his coat tighter around himself as they walked down the street.

Draco, completely satisfied with the chilly air, glanced at the man beside him. Why didn't you use a warming charm?"

Potter sneered. "My wand is somewhere on the bottom of my bag. I couldn't very well take it into the club, someone would have thought that I either was armed or just happy to see them."

"Too true," Draco answered, grinning at the mental image.

The silence drew on, until Potter decided to change the subject completely. "What did you do during the war?" he asked.

Draco felt the guilty burn of the Dark Mark on his arm, happy that he had worn long sleeves to cover it tonight. "Not much," he said, and technically it _was _true. "I tried to help, but in the end I guess I didn't really know what to do anymore."

Potter nodded, but when it looked like he was going to ask something else, Draco cut him off.

"So what really happened during that raid?" he asked, casting a sideways glance at the brunette. "When you lost your memory, I mean."

Potter rubbed his neck and scrunched his nose, as if remembering. "I told me that it was an ambush set by a bunch of former Death Eaters, out to avenge Voldemort."

Draco cringed at the sound of the feared name, but he didn't interrupt Potter. He had an inkling of who might have been one of those Death Eaters, but he wanted to know for sure.

"They said it was set up by some notorious Death Eater, this chap, Lucius something-or-other. A pompous name, French perhaps. Melroy? No, no--"

"Malfoy?" Draco suggested dryly.

Potter lit up. "Yeah, that's the one! Do you know him?"

Draco scoffed sardonically. "_Everyone_ knows him."

"Yeah well, it seems that everyone thought he had defected during the war," Potter continued thoughtfully. "But apparently they were wrong. Well, he's in Azkaban now at least," He shrugged nonchalantly. "It seems that he was quite a disagreeable fellow."

It seemed like Potter would have liked to continue the conversation, but to Draco's relief they had now reached his apartment building.

"Here we are," he breathed, letting Potter pass through the door. They stumbled into the elevator, scarcely both making it without getting caught in the door.

"And the sign says 'max 4 people'," Potter scoffed, pointing to the placard on the wall. "How the hell would they get four people into this cage?" he asked, grinning as he turned towards Draco. But with the limited room in the elevator, turning his head meant that Potter found himself with his face a mere inch from Draco's.

Draco drew in a quick breath, Potter was almost exactly his height, and he could feel the other mans breath ghosting over his lips. He stared into Potter's brilliant green eyes, wondering what the hell he was doing.

Potter was surely attractive. That much was almost painfully obvious to Draco: if it hadn't been, he wouldn't have invited Potter to stay with him. But even if the thought of getting intimate with Potter was quite appealing to Draco, he felt a tinge of guilt regarding the entire situation. The fact that he knew practically everything there was to know about Potter, while Potter knew nothing of him, not even his real name, could make _some_ people say that he was taking advantage of the poor hero.

Then again, those people weren't pressed up against Potter in an elevator.

Making up his mind, Draco leaned forward slowly, his lips just brushing against Potter's--

--and then the elevator doors slid open, startling both of the boys to pull away.

"Uhm yeah, here we are," Draco muttered, stepping out of the elevator, casting Potter a humorous glance. Potter merely grinned, grabbing his bag from the floor and following Draco to his front door.

"It's not much," Draco explained when they stepped inside, kicking off his shoes and marching into the apartment. "This is the living room, behind that door is the kitchen, here's the hall to the bedroom and--"

"Hey, Drake?" Potter's voice sounded from behind Draco.

"Yeah?" Draco responded, turning around on his heels only to find Potter standing immediately behind him, grinning wickedly. Draco didn't even have time to catch his breath before Potter had claimed his mouth in a strong and demanding kiss, pressing up against the other man and wrapping his arms around the blond's neck.

Draco grinned into the kiss, finding that he rather liked this new, memory-injured Harry Potter. He doubted that Potter would have kissed him like this if he had any recollection of who he really was.

He kissed back with passion, opening his mouth to let Potter's soft, velvety tongue enter. Potter groaned into his mouth as he nibbled gently at his lower lip, the sound sending tingles through Draco's entire body.

Feeling his legs starting to sway threateningly, Draco grabbed Potter for support. Still holding onto the brunette, Draco walked backwards, leading them towards the couch on the back wall of the living room. Seeing the blond's intentions, Potter took the liberty of gently pushing Draco down on his back onto the black leather. Draco let go of Potter for long enough to wriggle out of his sweater and unbuckle his belt, thereafter moving to tug the hem of Potter's shirt upwards.

Ridding Potter off his shirt, Draco pressed up against him, insistent on feeling that skin against his, to have the scent of Potter all over his own body as well. Potter kissed him again, his kisses now travelling lower from his lips down his chin, over Draco's collarbone and down to his nipple, to which Potter delivered a not very gentle bite. Draco shuddered beneath the other mans touch, cursing himself for not accosting Potter in some broom closet years ago.

Desperate to gain some control over himself and the situation, Draco pulled away to begin unbuttoning Potter's trousers. Draco tugged down his jeans and Potter's erection sprung free, causing a loud moan to escape the brunette. Draco smirked at Potter's reaction, leaning forth to claim the mans mouth in a kiss while his hand came down to wrap around Potter's cock. He left it there for only a minute, gently massaging the throbbing flesh for only as long as it took to have Potter gasping and cursing against his lips.

Potter answered by delivering a particularly harsh bite to Draco's lower lip, pulling away to stare at him with eyes dark from arousal.

"Want you," he said simply, huskily, the words causing a pleased smirk to spread over Draco's face. He didn't answer, but merely moved to tug his on trousers down, leaving Potter to kick his jeans off entirely. Crashing into each others bodies again, they fell onto the floor, completely disregarding the possibility of the couch.

Straddling Potter on the floor, it didn't take long for Draco to reach for the lube in his pocket. He kissed the former Gryffindor fleetingly before coating his fingers with translucent substance and spreading the other mans legs. Potter moaned as a finger entered him, repeating incoherent words and clawing at the hardwood floor. By the time Draco had three fingers inside him, Potter was practically screaming.

Incapable of controlling himself any longer, the sight of Potter lying sprawled before him all too tempting, Draco pulled his fingers out and moved to slick his own cock with the lube. Potter grinned approvingly, lifting his legs over Draco's shoulders as the blond positioned himself. He thrust in forcefully, Potter groaning beneath him as he did. Draco kept moving in a slow but steady rhythm, controlling himself even as Potter started to demand him harder, faster. He angled himself so that he was brushing Potter's prostate with every stroke, sending the brunette almost jolting off the floor repeatedly.

Eventually Potter came, whimpering and leaving scratch marks all over the floor. Draco pumped in and out a few times more before he emptied himself inside Potter. He was able to keep himself upright long enough to pull out of Potter before he fell down beside the brunette on the floor.

Draco listened to his own beating heart and the rapid breathing of the man beside him, feeling his sweaty body slowly starting to cool on the cold floor. Eventually he rouse into a sitting position, looking down at Potter, still flat on his back.

"Bed, now. We'll catch a cold lying here," Draco muttered, rising up and offering Potter his hand. Potter grinned, taking the offered hand and pulling himself to his feet. Draco reached for his wand on the coffee table and preformed a quick cleaning spell on the both of them, ridding them of all the sticky evidence from their escapade.

"Thanks," Potter responded, starting to collect his scattered clothes from the floor. Draco didn't stay to wait, but walked in advance into the bedroom.

When Potter didn't show up within a couple of minutes, Draco wrapped a sheet around his waist and returned to see what the hold-up was. He found Potter, dressed in a clean pair of boxers and crouching by his bag.

"Sorry, Malfoy," he said apologetically. "I'm just looking for my toothbrush."

It took a moment for Draco to realise that Potter had said something peculiar. He remained where he stood, staring at the former Gryffindor with wide eyes. "Malfoy?" he croaked uncertainly.

Potter stared at him in surprise for a moment before his face cracked into a wide smile. "Yeah. Dark Mark," he said, nodding towards Draco's bared arm. "And you look quite a lot like Lucius, the hair is unmistakeable. Besides," he continued, grinning even wider as an embarrassed blush crept over Draco's horrified face. "'Drake' isn't exactly the best alias either, is it, Draco?"

For a moment Draco was stunned to silence. The knowledge of being so thoroughly fooled by Potter was appallingly embarrassing. And there was nothing he could do or say to gain back his pride.

"Ah, here it is!" Potter exclaimed, holding forth his toothbrush, apparently completely unaware of Draco's anguish. The brunette stood up to walk into the bathroom, but on the way he stopped by Malfoy. Delivering a big sloppy kiss directly on Draco's mouth, Potter grinned.

"If it makes you feel any better, when I'm done, you can tell me of the time you broke my nose," Potter said, waiving his toothbrush and disappearing into the bathroom. And Draco was left staring at the closed door, grinning like an idiot.

"You bet."

Draco definitely liked the new Potter better.

_finis._


End file.
